


Mitbull: Romeo and Juliet

by everythingintransit, pagodacom



Category: My Chemical Romance, Pitbull (Musician), Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M, a comeplete rewrite of romeo and juliet by shakespeare, but its not in play form its in third person, here goes nothing, honestly this fic is just romeo and juliet on crack with random band members, oh man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8963179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingintransit/pseuds/everythingintransit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagodacom/pseuds/pagodacom
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity,
  
  In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
  
  From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
  
  Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
  
  From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
  
  A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
  
  Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
  
  Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
  
  The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
  
  And the continuance of their parents' rage,
  
  Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
  
  Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
  
  The which if you with patient ears attend,
  
  What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.


  ***
The completely re-written version of Romeo and Juliet by poet dude William Shakespeare, but with Pitbull as Romeo and Mikey Way as Juliet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:**  
>  Us completely re-writing a story written by another person without permission may be a completely asshole-y thing to do, but it is technically legal, so we don't really care what you think. Since Shakespeare existed before the era of copyright, people can do essentially whatever they want to with it. So this is completely legal. If you don't like that we're essentially ripping off Shakespeare, then please just don't read our fic. It's as simple as that.
> 
> **Cast:**  
>  Romeo: Pitbull _(The Rapper)_  
>  Juliet: Mikey Way _(My Chemical Romance)_  
>  Mercutio: Austin Carlile _(Of Mice & Men)_  
> Benvolio: Fil Thorpe-Evans _(Neck Deep)_  
>  Lord Capulet: Mark Hoppus _(blink-182)_  
>  Lady Capulet: Tom DeLonge _(blink-182)_  
>  Lord Montague: Adam Gontier _(Three Days Grace)_  
>  Lady Montague: Mike Shinoda _(Linkin Park)_  
>  The Prince: Chester Bennington _(Linkin Park)_  
>  Friar Lawrence: Pete Wentz _(Fall Out Boy)_  
>  Nurse: Jeremy McKinnon _(A Day To Remember)_  
>  Tybalt: Caleb Shomo _(Beartooth)_  
>  Gregory: Alex Gaskarth _(All Time Low)_  
>  Samson: Jack Barakat _(All Time Low)_  
>  Abraham: John O’Callaghan _(The Maine)_  
>  Paris: Zack Merrick _(All Time Low)_  
>  Rosaline: Lynn Gunn _(Pvris)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Act I of this complete train wreck of a fic. Act II will probably not be written for ages as it took us literal months to write this act, but let's be optimistic about it. Maybe finally posting will will give us a boost of motivation, who knows.  
> Thank you so much for considering our fic and happy reading!

**Prologue**

Two households, both alike in dignity,  
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,  
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;  
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows  
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.  
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,  
And the continuance of their parents' rage,  
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,  
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;  
The which if you with patient ears attend,  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

*

**Act I**

Alex Gregory Gaskarth and Jack Samson Barakat walked into the marketplace, proudly showing off the emblems of their house. Both wore stupidly flashy track suits in the Capulet colors with the Capulet crest sewn on their right breasts. As they were pursuing the selection of tomatoes from all over the globe, Alex managed to make eye contact with John Abraham O’Callaghan, a Montague, from across the booth. Alex nudged Jack with his shoulder and pointed towards John. Jack, being the confrontational idiot he was, walked up to John with the intention of starting a fight.

Instead of spewing insults in John’s direction, he opted to simply bite his thumb at the disgraceful Montague, to see if he would bear it. 

John was not impressed.

“Did you bite your thumb at me, sir?” John asked sassily, popping his left hip out slightly and staring the shorter man down. 

“Well, I do bite my thumb, sir.” Jack responded snappily, very proud of himself for being able to retaliate. (Alex shook his head, it was not a good retort at all.)

“Yes, but do you bite your thumb at me, sir?” John clarified, not impressed with Jack’s comeback in the slightest. 

Alex rolled his eyes, knowing Jack was going to continue the useless argument for as long as he could.

“If I say yes, am I breaking the law?” Jack whispered in Alex’s ear, clueless as ever.

“Yes, just stop... please?” Alex responded, still whispering. Jack seemed to only hear the first part of Alex’s sentence as he just continued to insult John.

“No, sir, I don’t bite my thumb at you, sir, but I do bite my thumb sir!” Jack seemed proud of himself for managing to say that sentence cohesively.

Without letting John reply, Alex asked another question. 

“Are you trying to start a fight with us, sir?” He asked, giving John a patronizing glare. Alex had realized that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, and decided that he and Jack could just prove that they were better than John, and Montagues altogether, and then get on with their lives. 

“No sir, I do not want to start a fight with you.” John seemed appalled at the very thought of him fighting such vile creatures. He did not like Capulets at all, if it wasn’t already obvious.  
They bickered some more, until Jack was fed up and eager to physically fight instead of argue over the implications of biting your thumb. He drew his sword, encouraging Alex to do the same. John wasn’t going to back down from kicking the asses of some Capulets, and drew his own sword. As they began to fight, a well known, extremely annoying voice rang out in the air.  
“Idiots! Put your swords away! What do you think you’re doing?” Fil Benvolio Thorpe-Evans, an annoying little prick, was desperately trying to get the trio to stop fighting.  
The young Montague was infamous for being smart, yet incredibly annoying. 

Him physically stepping into the crossfire of swords in an attempt to make the servants stop fighting was admirable, yet incredibly stupid.

As Fil was physically pushing their swords down, Caleb Tybalt Shomo saw Fil, and being the violent person he was, decided to walk up to them and get the fight started up again.  
“Fil, you imbecile, why are you wasting your time with petty servants? Come and fight me, you fool!” Caleb yelled from across the marketplace and began thundering towards Fil, slowly but surely withdrawing his sword from its sheath.

“Caleb, I’m only keeping the peace between our two houses. Put down your sword, or use it to part these men with me.” Fil responded, staring Caleb right in the eye as he sashayed in his direction, sword held firmly in his right hand.

Caleb scoffed at the skinny man, intent on fighting him in order to prove the supremacy of the Capulets. 

“Why do you have to talk about peace? I hate that word, almost as much as I hate all Montagues, you included. Come at me, if you’re not a coward!” Caleb smirked in Fil’s direction.  
Fil, void of words to say, instead opted to give Caleb what he wanted. He raised his sword, and another fight broke out. 

Just like before, people arrived before they could properly get into their battle. Just as Fil and Caleb’s swords clashed, Lord Mark Hoppus-Capulet and Lady Tom DeLonge-Capulet walked into the marketplace. 

As soon as Lord Mark Capulet saw the fighting, he called for his wife Tom to give him a sword. The Capulet had seen Lord Adam Gontier-Montague and Lady Mike Shinoda-Montague from across the marketplace, and was ready to fight. Lord Adam Montague recognized the Capulets, and immediately felt anger stirring in his chest. Just as a huge fight was about to break out, Prince Chester Bennington stormed into the marketplace. 

“Do you fools not realize the chaos you’re causing? All you do is fight, Capulets and Montagues always at each other’s throats about petty things and constantly disturbing the quiet that the rest of us relish! You are not allowed to fight in these streets, all of you need to break this up and leave right now!”

Begrudgingly, the fight was broken up, with the Montagues heading in one direction, and Capulets in the other. No matter how much they hated each other, they could not disobey Prince Chester in fear of being killed, or worse, banished.

As the two houses left the streets of Verona, a hush spread across the city. Without their bickering and fighting, there was very little noise being emitted by the citizens.

*

Pitbull was in love with Lynn Rosaline Gunn.

Lynn was the only thing on his mind every day, and he knew that she was his true love and he would never love anyone in the world more than he loved Lynn. The thing was, Lynn didn’t seem to love him the same way that he loved her. 

Shortly after Fil returned from the marketplace, Pitbull began whining to him about the torture of love, while Fil attempted to offer his sympathy. And Fil really did try to help out his romantic mess of a cousin, but he could barely keep his eyes open as Pitbull droned on and on about some girl who would never love him. 

He would formulate elaborate speeches on the fly that included unnecessarily metaphorical statements about the true nature of love. It was obvious how miserable Pitbull was about the situation he was in, but Fil knew there must be a reason that Lynn didn’t feel the same way about Pitbull. 

Lord Adam Montague was even starting to be concerned for the well being of his son as all he would do was mope around the house. 

So when Pitbull’s close friend Austin proposed going to a party, everyone around Pitbull suggested it to cheer him up.

*

Lady Tom DeLonge-Capulet did not think very highly of his 13 year old son. To him, Mikey was merely a child who did not have any conception of anything important and was - to be frank - beneath him. Perhaps Tom felt this was simply because he was an adult and adults were much more powerful and respectable than children in general, but then again, some children were well behaved and had been brought up well and had decent manners. However, every once in awhile he was forced to deal with menial affairs such as talking to his son.

Lady Tom burst into a room that he assumed was Mikey’s and began to call out to his most faithful - yet tiring and dim witted - servant: Nurse Jeremy McKinnon. 

At the time of Mikey’s birth, Jeremy was recruited to be the lifelong nurse and nanny to the small baby. 

“Nurse? Nurse, are you here? Nurse, where is that son of mine... Mikey? Bring him to me.” Lady Tom declared with his chest puffed out and nose turned up towards the sky. His pride would not be crushed by the fact that he had briefly forgotten the name of his own son, he was getting old, after all, and still hopelessly considered himself to be a decent parent, although nobody else did.

Nurse Jeremy, who had been sewing the skyline of his hometown Ocala, Florida onto a pillow case looked up towards Lady Tom with a bored expression. 

“Of course, my lady. He will be here momentarily.” Nurse Jeremy then seemed to forget all of his manners, took a sharp intake of breath, and began to shout out into a direction from which Mikey might have been currently residing. “MIKEY! Your mother Lady Tom wishes to see you now!”

Lady Tom and Nurse Jeremy heard the faint sound of furniture being pushed over and falling to the ground in large thumps from the next room as Mikey frantically rushed into his bedroom to stand before his parent. Mikey received very little attention from either of his parents so when they wished to see him, it was for something urgent that Mikey couldn’t afford to be late to.

In a remarkably short period of time, Mikey arrived in his bedroom and looked up at his mother, waiting for him to speak.

“Yes sir? For what do you wish from me?” Mikey asked timidly, awaiting a response. 

“I wish for you to be married,” Lady Tom replied immediately, wasting no time in making small talk with his own son, like the excellent parent he was.

Mikey, surprised by this question as he was only thirteen (barely a teenager), opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, searching for some answer to this statement.

Lady Tom, sensing his son’s cluelessness towards the topic at hand, quickly asked a followup question in the hopes of getting his son to say something relating to subject.

“How stands your disposition to be married, Mikey?”

Mikey, once again at a loss for words, thought for a minute before coming up with a satisfactory answer. 

“It is an honor that I dream not of.”

Nurse Jeremy scoffed at Mikey’s response, replying with a very sarcastic: “An honor! Were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.”

Mikey blushed slightly at Nurse Jeremy’s sudden outburst.

“Well, you must think of marriage now; no matter if it is considered to be an honor or not.” Lady Tom rebuked, his patience starting to wear thin, simply wanting for his conversation to take as little time as possible. “Here in Verona, ladies and gentlemen of esteem younger than you have already been made parents. Even I, at your age had already given birth to my first child. Hence, the valiant Zack Paris Merrick vies for your love.”

Mikey tried very hard to repress his gags at the mention of Zack’s name, whereas Nurse Jeremy openly swooned, which made Mikey feel even more sick (if it was even possible.)

“Oh yes, young man! That is one fine young gentleman. A man such as that must be made of wax!” Nurse Jeremy said, staring off into the distance wistfully at the thought of Zack.

Lady Tom skillfully ignored Nurse Jeremy’s slightly out of topic outburst and turned back to Mikey.

“What say you, can you love this gentleman? This night, he shall be at our feast and you will be able to behold the volume of his face. If you chose to marry this fine young man it makes no less of you, in fact it simply would embellish you!” Lady Tom stopped for a moment to gauge Mikey’s reaction before continuing. “Speak briefly Mikey, can you like of Zack’s love?”

Mikey thought for one moment of what a good answer would be, before speaking very quickly in the hopes of confusing his parent. 

“I'll look to like, if looking liking move: but no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.”

Lady Tom opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by the entrance of a servant.

“Madam, the guests have arrived and supper is being served.” The servant spoke in a quick yet fast voice, well trained from years experience in his profession. “To wait or to move slowly now would be foolish; so I beseech you, follow me to the dining hall.”

“We follow thee” Lady Capulet said to the servant, prompting him to leave the room and head towards the festivities that he would not be able to participate in. “Mikey, the county Zack has arrived.”

“Go Mikey, seek happy nights to happy days.” Nurse Jeremy said with a slight smile that the young boy returned as he followed his mother as he walked out of the room towards the boy’s impending doom going by the name Zack Paris Merrick.

*

Pitbull was not very excited about the prospect of going to this party. Especially since it involved prancing around Verona after dark with Fil Benvolio Evans, Austin Mercutio Carlile and their unnecessary posse of about fifteen people. It was made rather clear by both Fil and Austin that the sole reason they were even going to the party was because they wanted him to get over Lynn Rosaline Gunn.

“Guys,” Pitbull said in a overly whiney voice, dragging out the word,“Do we really have to go to this party? I’m not going to have any fun anyways, so what’s the point of taking me?” 

Austin, Fil, and their other friends were all sick and tired of hearing about how much Pitbull hated everything, especially anything relating to Lynn or love itself; and exchanged an annoyed glance.

“Come on, Pitbull, we’re crashing a party! You’ll enjoy yourself for once!” Fil exclaimed, attempting to cheer his friend up. Pitbull directed a dark glare at Fil, his eyes filled with pathetic unhappiness. 

“I’m never going to have fun again, not unless Lynn exchanges her vow of love for mine.” Pitbull mumbled under his breath, sounding quite a lot like a small child being told that they can’t do something.

“Come on Pitbull! We must have you dance!” Austin exclaimed brightly, sending a shit-eating grin in Pitbull’s direction. Pitbull fought off the urge to flip him off.

“No, believe me Austin, you are the one with dancing shoes, lined with nimble soles. I, on the over hand, have a soul of lead that pins me to the ground and prevents me from moving.”

“You’re a lover, Pitbull! Just borrow Cupid’s wings and soar with them above a common bound!” Austin retorted with a slight chuckle.

“I can’t Austin, I have been pierced by his arrow’s shaft far too many times to even think of borrowing his wings. Under love’s heavy burden I sink.”

“And by sinking in it, you are burdening love. The weight of your burden is far too great for tender love.”

“Is love truly a fragile thing? It is far too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like a thorn.”

“If love is too rough with you, be rough with love! Prick love for pricking, and beat love down into submission!”

“The game was never so fair, and I am done.”

Austin finally began getting tired of Pitbull’s shit and simply tutted at him, before starting to jog instead of walk and shouted: “Come, we burn daylight, ho!”

Pitbull, ever the downer, replied simply: “Nay, that’s not so.”

“I mean, sir; we waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgement sits five times in that before once in our five wits.”

“And we mean well in going to this party; but it’s no wit to go.”

“Why, one may ask?”

Pitbull sighed wistfully before replying: “I dreamed a dream tonight.”

“And did I.” Austin rebuked.

“Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamers often lie.”

“In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.”

Austin threw another one of his shit-eating grins in Pitbull’s direction before beginning a long and lengthy speech with the intentions of belittling Pitbull about a queen named Mab who apparently was the fairies’ midwife and was as tiny as Thumbelina. At night she goes around and places dreams in people’s heads of things that might not always be PG.  
Austin was far into his speech and showed no sign of stopping before Pitbull cut him off: “Peace, peace, Austin, peace! You’re talking about nothing.”

“True, I talk of dreams,” Austin began, “which are the children of an idle brain; void of anything besides fantasy. Which is as thin of a substance as air, more innocent than the wind.”

“This wind you talk of,” Fil cut in, “blows now from ourselves. Supper is done, and we shall come too late.”

“I fear too early,” Pitbull sighed, continuing to walk along the deserted streets of Verona with Austin, Fil and their posse, heading towards the house of the Capulets.

*

Lord Mark Hoppus-Capulet strutted down the grand hallway of his immense mansion, headed towards where the party was being held. His two most trusty servants stepped in front of him and threw open the gold-plated doors, allowing for Lord Mark to step through them and survey the sea of people in front of him: all attendees were friends of the Capulets or Capulets themselves, or so he thought.

This party was thrown for two main reasons: one, to show off the might of the Capulet’s power, and two, to allow Mikey and Zack to meet before they started publicly courting.

Lord Mark plastered on a large smile and began to address the crowd gathered in front of him, raising his arms to make overly dramatic hand gestures: “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the house of Capulets! Let us not waste time; come musicians, play! Give room, give room, and foot it girls!”

As the music began to play, the people gathered in the hall began to dance along, swaying slightly awkwardly in time. 

Almost immediately, Lord Mark found himself being approached by one of his distant relatives, one who was also a Capulet, and began cheery small talk with him as they commented on the state of the party and caught up with each other. 

-

From the other side of the vast dining hall that the party was being held in, very close to the doors leading to the outside world, Pitbull timidly walked into the throng of people, hiding behind his mask and flanked by his fellow Montagues (who were also wearing masks.) No one else seemed to feel out of place except for him, and he was quite quickly abandoned by his friends in favor of women and alcohol. He made a general scan of the party, before locking eyes with the most beautiful boy he had ever seen in his entire life. He let out a rather loud gasp before proclaiming: “O, he hath teach the torches to burn bright!” He said wistfully staring at the boy, “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”

Caleb Tybalt Shomo had been watching Pitbull closely from across the vast dining hall ever since he had walked in. There was something about the masks that made him and his comrades look suspicious, but it was not until he heard him speak that he understood what it was.

“This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy,” Caleb said urgently to the servant boy standing next to him, “To strike him dead. I hold it not a sin.” 

Lord Mark appeared at his side in an instant, almost immediately going into a panicked frenzy as he heard Caleb’s words. Lord Mark didn’t want too much blood spilled at the party, and most certainly did not want any guests killed by the hands of his haughty nephew. 

“Why, how now, kinsman! Wherefore storm you so?” He rushed out, trying to make Caleb see sense.

“Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,” Caleb spat out with pure venom in his voice, “A villain that is hither come in spite, to scorn our solemnity this night.” 

Caleb was a competitive person, and always tended to take things too seriously no matter what kind of situation he was in. Lord Mark, on the other hand, was working on impressing his guests and wasn’t in the mood for his own relatives to start any fights. However, just to humor his nephew, Lord Mark glanced over at the “villain” in question.

“Young Pitbull, is it?” Lord Mark asked, with a touch of apprehension.

“‘Tis he, that villain Pitbull,” Caleb said, taking great care to sound as angry as possible.

“Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,” said Mark, watching with dismay as his words had the exact opposite affect of what he had wanted them to have on Caleb.

“I’ll not endure him,” spat Caleb, his words sounding extremely childish. Lord Mark seemed to think of himself as a somewhat calm person, but was quickly losing his patience with his nephew.

“He shall be endured!” Lord Mark practically shouted over the crowd. He was not going to be crossed by his arrogant ass of a nephew, not now of all times, with Mikey to behold his future husband for Zack Paris Merrick for the very first time at this very party. “You are a saucy boy, but I will make you quiet.”

Caleb make it very clear with his facial expression that he wanted to keep pushing the matter, but knew he could not cross his Lord (and uncle) any further.

“I will withdraw, but do not believe that this quarrel is over, Montagues are nothing but trouble.”

And with that, Caleb moodily stalked through one of the side doors attached to the dining hall and left the party, off to do who knows what, allowing Lord Mark to breathe a sigh of relief before rejoining the party.

-

Pitbull’s heart was pounding as he slowly made his way closer to the beautiful boy he could not take his eyes off of, and before he knew it, they were standing directly before each other. 

“My lips are two pilgrims standing ready in front of your shrine,” Pitbull said as smoothly as he could, whispering directly into the boy’s ear, “to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Pitbull puckered his lips as much as he could and slowly began leaning in before the boy pushed him away.

“You do wrong your hand too much,” the boy said, staring up at Pitbull. “For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

The boy’s lips pulled into a slight smirk at Pitbull’s reaction to his refusal of a kiss.

“Have not saints lips,” Pitbull said, slightly hurt, “and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim” the boy responded smoothly, “lips they must use in prayer.” 

Pitbull was slightly shocked as to how well this was going, with the boy actually talking to him instead of walking away in disgust like Lynn Rosaline Gunn had done the first time he spoke to her. Pitbull eagerly continued speaking, and with renewed vigor; he saw a breach in the boy’s reasoning that he could slip through to get what he wanted.

“O, then, dear saint,” Pitbull said haughtily, a slight smirk appearing on his face “let lips do what hands do; they pray, lest faith turn to despair.”

Pitbull could see through the boy’s face that he was panicking slightly, having realized that Pitbull had beaten him in a game of wits.

“Saints do not move,” the boy stammered, trying to turn this battle of the mind back in his favor, “though grant for prayer’s sake.”

However, instead of the boy gaining the upper hand once again, Pitbull’s smirk grew wider. 

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take,” Pitbull had moved so close to the boy that their lips were practically already touching each others. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.”

As soon as he finished pronouncing his final word, Pitbull closed the miniscule gap between them and finally kissed the beautiful boy standing in front of him. 

The kiss immediately ended a few seconds later with the boy pushing Pitbull away.

The boy, clearly flustered by the effect of the kiss, stammered quietly: “All it is that you have received is sin from my lips.”

Pitbull simply chucked, “Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!” He then lowered his voice and leaned back in and said quietly, “Give me my sin again.”

Their kiss was much more passionate the second time around, with the boy actually participating instead of trying to push Pitbull away. Teeth clashed and tongues collided; both the boy and Pitbull never wanted it to end.

Eventually they had to break away for air and the boy said with a small laugh: “You kiss by the book.” 

Pitbull didn’t exactly have enough time to think over what that statement meant, as a voice had broken through the quiet atmosphere that they had built for themselves.

“Master Mikey, your mother craves a word with you.” From behind a pillar emerged a man dressed in nurse's clothing who sported quite a dark beard and ear gauges. On any occasion other than the one he was currently in, Pitbull would have been impressed.

However, all Pitbull could think of after the nurse called for the boy (who Pitbull now knew was called Mikey) was: “What is his mother?”

The nurse looked a bit surprised at Pitbull’s question, as if he could not believe that anyone didn’t know who Mikey’s mother was. 

“His mother is the lady of the house,” the nurse said rather proudly, “I nursed his son, that you find yourself talking with now. And I tell you, any who would lay hold of him shall have the chinks.”

Pitbull found himself flabbergasted at the crudeness of the nurse's speech, and even more so when he winked at him. 

The nurse then quickly ushered a very red-faced Mikey off to wherever he was needed, leaving Pitbull to contemplate what had just happened.

-

Pitbull had been standing next to the pillar where him and Mikey kissed for well over fifteen minutes, staring into space and thinking, when Fil found him and placed a hand on Pitbull’s shoulder reassuringly. 

It was at that exact moment that Mikey appeared on one of the balconies lining the dining hall, prompting Pitbull to finally vocalize his thoughts: “Is he a Capulet? O dear account! My life is my foe’s debt.”

Fil, in a desperate attempt to console a once again heartbroken Pitbull said feebly: “Away, begone; the sport is at its best.”

Pitbull sighed in agreeance with Fil’s slightly somber tone: “Aye, so fear; the more is my unrest.”

-

“Nurse,” Mikey started, slightly timidly but with an air of authority, “go ask the name of the boy who was with me, and if he be married. My grave is most likely to be my wedding bed.”

“His name is Pitbull,” the Nurse said apprehensively before revealing the next bit of information, “and a Montague. The only son of your great enemy.”

Contortions of anger and pure annoyance sprung from Mikey’s youthful face: “My only love sprung from my only hate! How unlucky is it that I must love a loathed enemy.”

Nurse Jeremy seemed to be ready to say something in response, but someone called for Mikey from outside of the door.

“Come, come, Mikey,” Nurse Jeremy jumped out of his seat, once again ushering Mikey out of the room, “let's away; the strangers are all gone.”

_Exeunt_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Act II is coming, we promise, just probably not for a very long time.  
> Comment if you want, and thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day/night!


End file.
